the sun peaking sneaking through the blinds on a tuesday morning -- it's either sunny and chill or snowing outside and you can tell that it's going to be the type of day where someone new says hi to you in passing or you get a really good haircut, never both because that would be too much power for one pair of pants
and after it's all over you'll leave them there, packaged in their denim shell, too weak to stand without you, kicked off and crumbled in the corner of the floor to later be picked up and remembered
they are forever preserved in a perfect memory and when the time comes, i promise they'll greet you again
a remnant of the part of you that seems to never disappear - even if it seems far away on days that aren't as sunny or don't involve good haircuts (after all, most days don't)